I Got Out
by KirbeeDesirae
Summary: Sirius Black briefly reviews his life and the hatred he has lived during it all.


I needed out.

That seems to be the story of my life, in some situation or another.  

I've been called a coward because of my tendency to run, but nobody understands.  They don't long for the peace I do.  They don't know the pain of being a complete misfit.  It's a part of me.  I long for the acceptance I will probably never gain.

I grew up in a home that I never entirely blended well in.  When I was little, I tried desperately to be like them.  I spouted their hatred of Muggles and Mudbloods.  I _accidentally_ dropped enchanted items in Muggle lawns.

All in all, I tried desperately to be the perfect Pureblood of the noble house of Black.

Something went wrong, somewhere, though.  Maybe I was just born that way.  I chaffed at the constraints my family placed on me.  I hated being told exactly what I could and could not do.  Something miraculous happened for me, though.  I got lost in the Floo network on my way to Knockturn Alley with my parents one day, and I ended up at Uncle Alphard's.  

See, I had heard these stories about him, and about how he was a Muggle-lover and that he was trying to turn his daughters into them too.  Well, his wife run off and took two of the girls, but Uncle Alphard made sure Andromeda stayed with him, and apparently, she even went to a Muggle primary school.  Uncle Alphard set me up with some milk and chocolate cake and tried to get in contact with my parents.  

I sort of…said bad things about Muggles and he gave me a really sad look and started telling me about Muggles.  They were things I had never heard before.  He told that they didn't really stink, that they did bathe regularly, that only the weird ones ate each other, and than they were really essentially like us.  Mother came and got me soon enough and snatched me out of there like it was diseased.  She then very hastily told me everything he might've said about Muggles was false.

So, of course, this made me wonder which one was really true.

I went through a stage which I refer to as The Great Enlightenment.  At the tender age of one decade old, I started spying Muggles whenever possible.  I watched them, smelled them, and I even licked one once.  By the time I left for Hogwarts on September first, I really doubted what I had been fed all my life. 

I sat by myself on the Hogwarts Express.  Some kids poked their heads in the door, but they saw me and backed out.  That really concerned me.  What did people think about me already?  I'm surprised I didn't have to sit by myself in the boats, too.  Two boys and a girl filed in behind me.  The girl went to sit beside me, but the other boy sneered, looking at me, 'You won't want to risk sitting next to that.  He'll probably shove you over to see what will happen'.

That would be my first Hogwarts experience with James Potter.  I had met him a few times socially; his family was very high up in the Ministry of Magic and sickenly good-hearted and noble by reputation.  At the time I didn't know why he said that, but I found out exactly what he thought about me soon enough.  I found out a lot about what James Potter thought.

It came time for the sorting.  This turned out to be a pivotal point in my life.  

Ever since Phineas Nigellus was Headmaster, Blacks have been in Slytherin.  If there was a genius or something, they would make it into Ravenclaw.  We called them smarty-pants Slytherins.  I started wondering if I wanted to be in Slytherin.  So far, my experimentation had shown that my family could very possibly be lying to me.  When I sat down on that stool, I didn't know where I wanted to go or where I _would_ go.  

_A strong sense of independence…that will not serve you well in Slytherin.__  Your family always enters that house, though; perhaps you will conform in time if placed there._

All I could think is 'please let me be happy'.

_Happiness, eh?__  Few Slytherins find happiness.  Hufflepuffs have a good time for the most part, but you know very little about the loyalty needed there.  Hufflepuffs need to band together to protect themselves from the other houses.  Ravenclaw…you're smart enough, but you will be known as the smarty-pant Slytherin.  That only leaves Gryffindor.  It would provide you with the complete separation from your family you have been wanting recently._

I told the hat that only dimwits go into Gryffindor.

_If you truly believe that, then that is the house you belong to.  You might not think so at first, but Gryffindor will be good for you, I believe.  There are some good people that will be going there, they will serve you well.  Yes, Gryffindor for you, the first Black in that house, even._

"GRYFFINDOR!" rang throughout the Great Hall, causing silence from all tables.  I opened my eyes and glanced nervously at my Slytherin relatives, seeing their mouths open with shock.  Gryffindors seemed to be in no better state as I slid off the stool and shuffled over there.  As I made contact with the bench, I had one reassuring thought.  I had got out.  I was free from my family.

Instead, I had entered into the hell that was Gryffindor.

Nobody spoke to me throughout the feast or during the long walk to our tower.  I caught the glares of my fellow dorm mates while we were settling in.  James Potter was in my dorm.  I wondered how the two of us could be in the same house.  There were eight of us all together.  James Potter, Edgar Bones, Peter Pettigrew, Sturgis Podmore, twin brothers, Gideon and Fabian Prewitt, and Remus Lupin.

There was a long period of silence where we unpacked our belongings and they all stared at me, and apparently James Potter was the guts to say anything to me.

"So what happened, Black?  Did your mummy bribe Dumbledore into letting you in so the Slytherins could have a spy?"

"I knew we would have to have a mouthy little swotter in my dorm.  I guess we can all see which one of us that is."

"Big talk for a Slythie stranded in Gryffindor."

"Obviously I am not a Slytherin if I'm in here.  Who's to say you aren't a Slytherin spy?  We all know the Potters could buy their way into anywhere."

I saw his face go red with anger even though I doubted it greatly.  The hat had barely hit his head before it yelled out Gryffindor.  "I think we can judge that by the fact my parents are known for having a fair amount of moral judgment."

"So you're judging me by my family?  Very fair you are, Potter.  A bloody saint just like your parents, you are."

"At least my parents don't try to kill Muggles, Black.  I better not see you picking on any Muggle-borns."

"What are you going to do about it?"

"It'll be a surprise, I assure you.  Just you wait and see." 

He brushed past me, bumping me as he went, and went down in the common room where we would be welcomed with open arms, no doubt.  I began yanking things out of my trunk with violence.  Things weren't so great after all.  Sure, I was rid of my family, but people hated me here.  I was treated like dirt.  Criminal dirt, in fact.  How was I supposed to do spend seven years in this sort of environment?  I looked around the room, hoping to see someone that even hinted at friendliness.  I received open hatred from everyone except for Remus Lupin who stared back with frank unconcern.

So, I established rules for myself.  They were rules that I lived by for my first two months at Hogwarts.  I made people approach me, not the other way around.  The second was never direct a single utterance toward James Potter.  Then, get even.

I made some friends, soon, though.  The girl that Potter told not to sit next to me was one of them.  She was a Muggle-born, and therefore an outcast in Gryffindor.  At that time, most Muggle-borns usually made it to Hufflepuff and occasionally Ravenclaw.  Lily Evans would make friends later, but that first month at Hogwarts was hard on her.  So, we outcasts stuck together.  There was a third person in that group, Remus Lupin.  At the time I didn't know why he was so wary of others, but he fit in well with us.  Lily taught me more about Muggles than any Muggle Studies class ever would.  She was one of the nicest people I had ever come in acquaintance with, and I believed her.  She opened up the world for me by allowing me to completely tear away from the Black beliefs in my own mind, and soon enough, in the minds of others.  Remus was a friend in my dorm, someone to whisper with at night and someone who stuck up for me when Potter made his cutting remarks.

For the getting even part, it was easy enough.  I knew what had a reaction with what, making me quite masterful in the potions department.  If you are masterful in potions, you are a genius at pranking.  If someone did something to me, and later I would extend this to Lily also, and I never got caught.

The only problem was that James Potter had this in common with me.  Eventually, that similar part in our personalities opened the door for our friendship.  As unlikely as it seemed, we were terribly alike.  I was inconveniently out of wartcap powder, and I knew he had some, so I was planning on _borrowing_ it from him.  Unluckily for me, he caught me.  He wrung my plans out of me by threatening to turn me in, and we fell into a discussion of pranks.  That set us on speaking terms, at least. 

Eventually (it was a long and hard road) we became friends.  I think the Great Hall fell into silence the day he came in and sat by me at breakfast.  If it hadn't been for the complete and utter separation from my family, I doubt I would have ever become a true Gryffindor in my housemates' eyes.  I never received owls from home and my family never singled me out other than to make cruel comments.  

I became free from my family physically during my Hogwarts years, but I also received a mental release.  

James Potter had as much as an effect on my as Lily Evans did during my first month.  While she taught me tolerance of Muggles and the ilk, he taught me the dangers of evil.  He showed me that the things I grew up with weren't necessarily the usual tools for child-rearing.  James gave me a sort of peace within my self that made me mentally tough.

My family had always harshly criticized, but James showed me that that it shouldn't hurt me, not when they're the way they are.  

Don't get me wrong, James was a complete arse with regularity, but he was still one the best people I have ever known.  I think that was because he saw good and evil in black and white.  In my mind, there was a lot of gray, but it didn't exist for him.  James hated anything with the Dark Arts with a passion that I didn't understand.  I've never seen anyone quite that zealous about anything.

I discovered where he got that, though; the first time I met his parents.

Mr. and Mrs. Potter were the fairy-tale parents to me.  They bought James gifts and sent him owls at school and requested grade reports from his teachers once a month and bossed him around like there was no tomorrow and they said 'I love you' every time he left their sight.  

There is no way to describe how much I wanted that.  The first time I stayed with them was Christmas holidays of our third year.  James knew I didn't go home for Christmas so he invited me.  I accepted, and then I was shocked by all the love I received during those weeks.  Mrs. Potter hugged me when she first saw me and put me in the room next to James's.  She asked me all my favorite foods and the ones I didn't tell her, James did, and we had every single one of those foods during my stay.  They even bought me Christmas presents.  They drank eggnog with just a little brandy in it and sang Christmas carols and decorated a tree and hung mistletoe!  I was in shock, and I hated to leave.  

After that, I found any way possible to go to their house. 

They watched out for me.  When Voldemort initially became stronger I felt force from my mother to join him, but the Potters made it clear that they would be there if I didn't.  When I felt like caving, James hauled me aside and made it very clear that if I returned to our dormitory with a Dark Mark on my arm, our friendship was terminated.  It was then that I made some decisions in my life.  If there were some people so incredible apposed to somebody because of academically proven reasons, there were serious problems.  

I was approached by The Dark Lord at my mother's house when I was sixteen years old, and I refused to join his ranks.  My brother Regulus did, though, and I was disowned from the family.   I was given the opportunity to stay in a servant's position, so I ran away.

I ran to 1963 Rallin Chase with all my worldly possession packed in a trunk and hit the huge lion knocker three times.  Mrs. Potter opened the door and as she welcomed me in with a hug, she whispered 'I'm so proud of you, Sirius' in my ear.

My heart felt ready to burst with those words.  James came bouncing down the stairs as he always did with his stupid grin in place saying loudly, 'Will these uninvited guests never stop?'

During our last year at Hogwarts, the dynamic was changed.  Of course good things can't last forever no matter how I wish they did.  

James fell in love.  I thought it was ridiculous at the time, but I suppose I was just jealous.  I recognized it as the love his parents appeared to have.  My first Hogwarts friend and my best Hogwarts friend had finally got around to going out.  Lily Evans has detested James for the longest time, but he finally won her over in the way only he had.  

Our cozy little group of us four boy, the dorm mates, became a group of five, and I was no longer James's number one, Lily was.

This was terrible for me for awhile until I accepted it, and then I knew James and I would be best friends until we were old and doddering with canes.  Lily was just his other best friend, the one that could cook.  Seriously, she could _cook_.

When we graduated, James and I became Aurors and James and Lily got married.  

It was difficult for me to become an Auror, the Ministry was very wary about letting a Black into the secret realm of good guys, but I finally convinced them along with a little help from the Potter family.  I got in, though, and then I joined the Order of the Phoenix with all the boys from my year from Gryffindor except, and Lily.  We were among the elite in a group devastatingly outnumbered while trying to fight the worst wizard this century.  

James's parents were killed in the struggle and a part of me crumbled.  I lost my footing for awhile, and I didn't know what to do.

Then I fell back on the Potters again, but this time they were my friends and not parental figures.  James and Lily were my anchor when I felt the need to drift.  They kept me focused because in them, I saw what the world should be like.  I saw a life of love and happiness and chocolate chip pancakes.  I wanted my own cozy little life like they had.  

And then Harry James Potter was born.  

I was so astounded I didn't know what to do.  James would be twenty in a week when Harry was born, and that seemed so young to me.  I would have been so scared, but he never showed fear for himself.  In that last year, he was so scared something would happen to Lily or Harry.  I admire James for so many things, but he was an exemplary family man.  He was so in love with Lily and Harry that he did anything to save them.  I saw the weariness in his eyes, but he never complained because it was for them.  I know I would have given up if it had been me.

I saw what a family should be and I felt undeniably cheated by my own life.  

And then James's world fell down around him.

The members of the Order of the Phoenix were being picked off one by one and I saw half of my roommates killed.  I didn't imagine the ones closest to me would be too.  I saw James as invincible, and one of his faults was that he saw the same thing.  He made himself painfully obvious in the fight against Voldemort, putting himself in the deadly spotlight.  Even when he was told that it might be in his best interest to bow out and move out of Europe, he gave a cocky grin and said he could take care of himself.  Lily tried to reason with him, but he wouldn't listen.

On October fifteenth, James was told by Albus Dumbledore that if he wanted any of the three of them alive to see Harry attend Hogwarts, they better go into hiding.  That spurred him into action at a frantic pace where he ran around putting most of his money into an airtight investment plan and securing Harry's welfare in one way or another.  He also asked be to be the secret-keeper for the Fidelius Charm they were planning to perform.

I saw this as the perfect opportunity to repay James for everything he and Lily had ever done for me and I gladly accepted.  That night, though, as I lay in bed, I started really thinking about this.  I would never give up the Potters, but if I was killed, they would be revealed.  Admittedly, I was a bit scared, but I didn't have a whole lot to live for.  I thought about it for a long time before deciding that he should decide a less-obvious secret-keeper.  

James chose Peter Pettigrew.  

Peter ultimately betrayed James, Lily, and Harry to Lord Voldemort on Halloween night of 1981, destroying several lives at once.

James and Lily Potter, my best friends were killed.  

Baby Harry survived, though.  Somehow, he lived and I was overjoyed.  I should have been able to take him and raise him as my son, but Dumbledore told Hagrid to take him.

So I sought revenge on my former friend, Peter Pettigrew.  I wasn't entirely sure what I would do when I found that bastard, but it would somehow result in his death.  

It didn't though.  Little Peter was a step ahead of me, and it became apparent he had planned this long ago.  I was blamed for the murders he committed and I was sent to Azkaban without a trial.

Harry grew up with Muggles, but he was safe.

I was able to believe that for awhile.  I didn't think Peter would dare to come after his best friend's son.  I was wrong, though; I saw that he was trying to get at Harry the way he got at James:  through his best friend.  When I saw the picture of Peter in his animagus form, my fears that Voldemort wasn't really dead was confirmed.  I knew that Harry wasn't really safe.

I still had enough of my faculties about me that I was able to figure my escape.  I didn't have a whole lot of happy memories to be sucked out.

It was entirely necessary for me keep Harry safe; I saw him as the best of both James and Lily, with James's hatred of the Dark Arts and Lily's tolerance.  

He looked so much like James the first time I saw him in Magnolia Crescent that I could do nothing but stare.  I saw him several times like that, and it hurts to know that he regarded me as his parents' murderer for a long year.  

Then, I had the chance to explain to him.  For the first time, I was truly Harry's godfather.  For a brief, hopeful moment, I thought I would get to be Harry's father.  That was dashed out the window, though.

I spent two more years watching life through a cloudy window as I was a fugitive.  I came to realize Harry was more like his father than he would ever know.  That hurt me more than a little, I'm ashamed to say.  I began to realize the utter desolation of my life without my friends, without my freedom, and without a future.  I was living in the past.  I wanted something better than I even had a possibility for.

Once again, I needed out, but I didn't know where to go.  My only good friends left were a werewolf and an underage wizard that was currently the laughing stock of the wizarding world.  I couldn't prove my innocence.  I couldn't even help with the fight against Voldemort.  I was a useless leech on society.  Even my enemies pointed that out.

So that's why I'm not too devastated now.  I'm falling, and I know I won't emerge from the veil.  But now I won't have a monotonous day after another monotonous day again.  I will get to see my friends again.  

It's not the end of the world; it's just the end of my world.

I am glad.

I got out.


End file.
